...And the conversation somehow drifted to 'Al Tishali Oti'. Declared one blogger, "If I was the sabra, I wouldn't post so cryptically'. "If I was the sabra", said another, "I wouldn't use so many Hebrew & Yiddish words." Another blogger chimed in, "If I owned 'Al Tishali Oti', I would be more consistent with colors n content." "I wouldn't be sarcastic to commenters", muttered another, darkly. One blogger added not. "I have nothing to say, for 'To know the sabra is to be the sabra'."

Thursday, October 29, 2009

At a wayside inn, a dozen chassidic merchants were warming themselves at the fire. The group included men from towns and villages across Russia and Poland, all traveling to the great annual fair at Leipzig. The conversation soon turned to the greatness of their rebbes, as each extoled the virtues of his master.

One by one, the chassidim told stories about the miraculous powers of their rebbes. One told how for fifteen years he and his wife had yearned for a child, until they received a blessing from their rebbe: within a year, they were cradling their newborn son in their arms. A second told of how his rebbe had neutralized the Jew-hating, pogrom-inciting priest in their village, while a third related how his rebbe's blessing and special instructions had brought home his wayward son. And so they passed the hours, recounting the wonders performed by their holy mentors.

Finally, they all turned to the one chassid who had listened in silence to their stories. "Nu, whose chassid are you?" they asked. "Let's hear something about your rebbe."

The chassid said: "I am a Chabad chassid, a disciple of Rabbi Sholom DovBer of Lubavitch. I deal in lumber, and several years ago I was offered a forest for sale. The price was high, but the opportunities were even greater -- there was talk of a railroad to be constructed, raising the demand for and profitability of the local lumber. As I do with all major decisions in my life, I consulted with the Rebbe. He advised me to buy the forest.

"The purchase ruined me. The railroad project fell through and I was left with a basically worthless forest. I lost my entire fortune and was cast heavily into debt."

After a lengthy pause, one of the listeners asked, "And then? What happened?"

"Nothing," said the chassid. "I am still struggling to feed my family and repay my debts."

"So what's the miracle?" they all asked.

"That my relationship with the Rebbe has nothing to do with his wonder-working powers. That I continue to follow his directives in every area of my life. The miracle is that I am his chassid."

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Monday, October 26, 2009

1. What is the name of this week’s Parsha?2. What was the name of Avram’s father?3. What kind of store did he have?4. What did Avram do when he was in charge of the store one time?5. How did Terach feel when he came back and saw what happened?6. Terach went to King Nimrod and told him what his son, Avram, did. What did Nimrod say should happen to Avram?7. Was Avram scared?8. Did Avram get burned in the fire? What happened instead?9. Who said “Lech-Lecha”? Who did He say it to?10. Where did Avram, his wife Sarai, his father Terach, his nephew Lot and all their friends travel to?11. After some time, there was a hunger in the land. Where did they travel to buy food?12. What did Avram do with Sarai before they got to Mitzrayim? Why?13. What happened to Pharoah when he tried to take Sarai?14. When Avram and Sarai went back to Mitzrayim, there was food and animals for everyone. What did Avram tell his shepherds to put on the sheep before they went out to eat grass? Why?15. Did Lot’s shepherds also put a muzzle on their sheep?16. Hashem promised Avram that he will have so many kids that you can’t even count them, just like the ______________.17. What did Avram’s name change to? What did Sarai’s name change to?18. What mitzvah did Hashem tell Avraham to do when he was 99 years old?

This is the review sheet I made for this Parsha, last year. I cry when I see it because there is so much here I won't be able to teach this week...because I cannot properly speak the local language.

They tell me not to react."You can't take every death personally", they tell me.They tell me not to take it so much to heart."You need to move on", they tell me.They tell me not to be so sensitive, so emotional, so attached."It's not your brother. It's not your sister. It's not your mother nor your father nor your cousin."That's what they tell me.That's what they all tell me.

I tell them otherwise.

I tell them that every boy with a neshama is my brother and every girl with a neshama is my sister. Every Jewish parent is my parent and every Jewish cousin is my cousin.

It's one family.

But they tell me not to react. Well, a solitary and momentary tear is okay. So is a sad sigh and maybe even a bitter curse. A moment of silent contemplation is alright too, but not more than that. No, more than that would be overreacting. And seriously now-you've got to stop overreacting.

Ok, so we can react. Just not overreact.

And who defines the limits? Who draws the border? Tell me-how many tears are permitted and how much contemplation is granted?

"You have to live", they tell me.

Well, so did they. They also had to live. They had to cry (tears of joy) and sigh (contented sighs) and curse (when too many chocolate chips fell into the cookie batter).They had to be safe and happy, cared-for and healthy.Yeh, all those things. All those things and more, they had to be.

Once at a Chassidic gathering, Rabbi Avraham Zaltzman told a story about his wild childhood in the Yeshiva in the town of Lubavitch almost one hundred years ago. (Chassidic gatherings, called Farbrengans, often celebrate important occasions; for instance the 12th of Tammuz when the Previous Rebbe was miraculously released from communist imprisonment and certain death).

Rabbi Mendel Futerfass, a well known Chassid who had been imprisoned many years in Siberia was also present at the Farbrengan, and often his comments 'made the evening' as would be the case here.

Rabbi Zaltzman began his story:

When he was only twelve years old he was such an uncontrollable child that it was very difficult for him to sit and learn Torah. So he and two other boys in the Yeshiva with similar natures were given various odd jobs to keep them busy in positive ways.

One of these jobs was to milk a few goats in a nearby farm and supply milk to the pupils. But this too became boring and one terrible day, desperate for action, they somehow managed to get one of the goats to drink vodka and then led the intoxicated animal to the entrance large study hall where all the pupils were diligently immersed in Talmudic studies, and pushed it in.

The goat, totally oblivious of the holiness of the place, jumped on tables, knocked over several rabbis and scattered books and papers in all directions. It was hours before the studies could be restored and, of course, it was no secret who was to blame.

The three boys were summoned to the supervisor of the Yeshiva, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak (The son of the Rebbe 'Resha'b'; Rebbe Shalom Dov Ber, the fifth Rebbe of Chabad and founder of the Yeshiva), and were told to pack up their belongings and leave.

With no other choice they did as they were told and several hours later were waiting in the train station in the nearby city of Rodna, with their suitcases in hand to return to their homes.

But suddenly Avraham turned to his friends and said, "What are we doing?! We can't leave! We have to go back and plead for mercy!" But the others just shook their heads 'no'.

"It won't work. Did you see the look on the supervisor's face? He doesn't want to see us again. We're finished!" One answered

The other boy agreed. "We were living on mercy as it is. He's not going to take us back this time."

"Yeah, we're out for sure!"

But Avraham didn't give up and before the train arrived he succeeded in convinced one of the boys to come back with him and give it a try.

They said good bye to their friend and trudged back to Lubavitch with no real idea what their next step was but Avraham wouldn't go down without a battle.

They couldn't go back to the Supervisor; he was too angry. And the Rebbe, the supervisor's father, also wasn't the one to approach; he would never override his son's decision… especially here.

Their only chance was the supervisor's grandmother, the Rebbe's mother, Rabbinit Rivka. She had a wonderful warm heart and was a mother for all the boys in the yeshiva; she cooked, sewed and washed for them as well as being there in times of illness and need. Maybe she could help.

They went to her house, knocked on the door and when she answered Avraham poured out his heart. When he was finished, her answer was to the point.

"I can't go against the decision of my grandson; he's the supervisor of the Yeshiva. The only one that might be able to do that is my son, the Rebbe. But I can't talk to him about this either. I simply can't mix in.

"But, what I can do is this: every morning at ten my son, The Rebbe sits in his room and drinks a cup of tea. Come tomorrow morning and I'll show you where the room is ... but you will have to do the talking."

The two boys found some place to sleep that night and the next morning little Avraham reported to Rabbinit Rivka while his friend, who was simply too afraid, waited outside.

She let him in, pointed him to the room where the Rebbe was sitting, whispered 'good luck' and watched as he bravely approached the door.

The door was open and when the Rebbe saw him standing there he looked up, stared at him for a moment and asked him what he wanted.

"I want to learn in Lubavitch." He was almost crying.

"Lubavitch?" smiled the Rebbe as he motioned him to come closer, "But there are so many other good yeshivas! There is Slovadka, Navordak" and he listed all the other Torah academies, about twenty of them, in the area.

"But I want to learn here, in Lubavitch!" The young boy began to whine. When the Rebbe saw this he began to smile and when Avraham saw the smile he began to cry. This, in turn, caused the Rebbe to laugh, which made Avraham cry even harder.

Suddenly the Rebbe became serious and said, "We will think about it… come back later today."

Avraham backed out of the office, sniffling and wiping his eyes with his sleeve but suddenly he stopped, took two steps forward, which put him back in entrance of the room, and just stood there looking sheepishly at the ground.

"Nu? What do you want now?" The Rebbe asked.

"Err, I have a friend." Avraham answered. "He's waiting outside."

"A friend is it? Well, we will think about him also." The Rebbe replied. "Come back in a few hours."

"Well, the story has a happy ending" Rabbi Avraham concluded to his listeners. "We returned to the Rebbe a few hours later, the Rebbe took us into his son; Yosef Yitzchak's office, said a few words and left.

"His son imposed a stiff fine on us; we had to learn tens of pages of Talmud and Chassidut by heart. But he accepted us back in! And that's the story! How my broken heart got me back into yeshiva."

Rabbi Mendel Futerfass who had been listening with interest was the first to comment.

"Tell me, Reb Avraham, why do you think he did that? What made him accept you back into the yeshiva?"

"Like I said," He replied "That's the point of the story. Because I wanted so much to learn in Lubavitch that I actually wept! That's how much a person should want Chassidut; that his heart is breaking!!

"Nope!" Said Reb Mendel. "You're wrong. Your broken heart is not what got you into Lubavitch.

"The reason the Rebbe took you back was because you worried for your friend! You thought of another Jew! That's why he took you back!! Because of your Ahavat Yisroel!

"Remember that deal we had...? You come work for us and we give you a place to stay, food to eat, a mode of transportation...? Well, heh, we were kidding. Oh, no-not about the work part. The room, board and etcetera part :)"

I'm trying hard to smile, too.Really. It's not that bad. I mean I coulda had to teach Swahili to a lion. Now THAT woulda been frustrating. This? Right after Shabbos Bereishis and Rosh Hashona and Yom Kippur and Simchas Torah and being a Jew and a chossid and self-bettering human being? Totally cool.

The Washington Post: Any feeling of normalcy is a long way off for Mumbai's Jewish community. "It's a healing process," said Rabbi Avraham Berkowitz, director of the Chabad Mumbai Relief Fund, which raised money for Moshe's care. "But this is our tribute to them, to keep going, even if it's tough."

After a long search, a couple has been found to replace the Holtzbergs, whose portraits hang in the new Chabad House. But, for security reasons, the new rabbi and his wife asked not to be named.

"My parents do worry for me. And sometimes I am afraid to go outside," said the new rabbi's wife, a soft-spoken woman who was arranging a plate of kosher beef brought to her by a traveler from New York. "But they are also proud of us for coming."

---------------------------
Hachnosas Sefer Torah in Eilat In Memory of Many Loved OnesThe sefer Torah was also donated in the memory of Tmimim Moshe Golan, Yonatan Bitton, and Levi Hendel, all of whom were tragically killed in a road accident during Chanukah 5767. They had been on their way to do mivtzoyim at an army base nearby, and it was only fitting to dedicate a sefer Torah in their memory at the Chabad House from where they set out on their final journey.

"When I got home, I told my wife that I was no longer miserable. “Today is Rosh Hashanah and I am very happy and truly inspired,” I said. “If you had heard Rabbi Eisenbach and had seen his bittul to a tzaddik, and what it is to give up your whole life, not only on Rosh Hashanah, to Hashem, you would be just as happy as I am. Our one-off trip to Eilat is nothing compared to Rabbi and Mrs. Eisenbach’s eternal journey, during which they have raised all of their children here. Here and onwards, I can only feel great inspiration and joy.""

Yesterday, the Israeli Air Force Unit 669 Search and Rescue team had to rescue a hiker who got injured and stuck in Wadi Kelt. Another hiker caught the rescue on video, and here is the really cool footage...

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

1. The former manager of Postville's kosher meat plant goes on trial this week to face allegations that he cheated a bank, laundered more than $1 million, concealed months of fraud and failed to pay livestock providers on time.Sholom Rubashkin will confront 91 fraud-related charges Tuesday in a trial that could effectively send him to prison for the rest of his life. The former executive at Agriprocessors Inc. will step into a Sioux Falls, S.D., federal courtroom with his wife, Leah, and their children for a legal struggle that could last four to six weeks.Rubashkin has prepared for trial "intensely, but also with the peace of mind of a man who knows he will be, G-d willing, fully exonerated," his son, Getzel Rubashkin, said in an e-mail. "He has been the source of strength and encouragement for those around him, instead of the other way around." PLEASE SAY TEHILLIM 4 SHOLOM MORDECHAI BEN RIVKA

3. As of this writing, after six weeks of searching, Amichai has not been found. The Harel 669 has exhausted their methods and returned to Israel. Jacob is presently in Tel Aviv trying to find a rescue team that can offer other methods. Whether or not Amichai is alive, the family will never know closure until he -- or his body -- is found.

The soul-stirring search for Amichai is encapsulated in one vignette: When the first group of Israeli volunteers reached Khirganga and checked into a guesthouse to spend the night, the clerk at the front desk asked if Amichai is a celebrity, because everyone is looking for him. One of the volunteers, a secular Israeli, replied, "Amichai is a Jew, so he's part of our family."

To send donations toward the cost of the search (and to see more photos), please visit this site.

Monday, October 12, 2009

Seven years after Boaz Shabo lost his wife and three of his seven children in a terrorist attack, he and his second wife are the proud parents of new-born triplets.

The babies, two boys and a girl, are currently hospitalized in the preemie ward of Tel HaShomer Hospital.

The murderous attack occurred in June 2002 – ending a tragic week in which no fewer than 38 Israelis were murdered by Palestinian terrorists, including 19 on a bus outside the Gilo neighborhood of Jerusalem and seven in a French Hill bus stop bombing.

On Thursday evening, June 20, 2002, a Palestinian terrorist infiltrated the Shomron (Samaria) town of Itamar and began shooting in all directions. He then ran to the Shabo family house, which he entered and began his murderous spree. Soldiers and Border Guard police encircled the house, and the exchange of fire continued even after some soldiers bravely entered the house. They forced the terrorist upstairs while they rescued the four surviving children inside, two of whom were hurt. The terrorist was shot and killed when he jumped from the second floor - but not before the house caught fire when a bullet hit a gas canister. The house was largely destroyed.

Boaz’s wife Rachel, 40, and three of their seven children - Neriah, 15, Tzvikah, 12 and Avishai, 5 - were murdered in the attack. Itamar resident and emergency team member Yossi Tuito was also murdered when he arrived at the home in an effort to help.

Boaz and his remaining four children moved to nearby Kedumim shortly after the attack. He explained that his relatives lived there, and “in any event, we had no house to return to…”

Nearly two years ago, Boaz remarried, and Hila and her five children joined Boaz and two of his; his two elder children are now married and have, between them, four children of their own.

Born on the Sukkot HolidayThe triplets were born on last Sunday, the second day of the Sukkot holiday, and are expected to be released from the hospital within 2-3 weeks.“We knew that we could expect twins,” Boaz later said, “but when they turned out to be triplets, it was a total surprise – something so symbolic that only G-d can understand or explain it. Though it’s impossible to forget those who were killed, this is a very joyous occasion for all of us.”

The Ultimate Condolence Call; Volunteering in SderotBoaz has been in the news more than once since the tragedy. He paid a condolence call to David Hatuel in May 2004 when the latter lost his entire family – his pregnant wife and four daughters – in a terrorist shooting attack in Gush Katif. Relatives said that Boaz seemed to be the only one who could offer him consolation at the time.In addition, during the rocket onslaught on the Negev city of Sderot, Boaz – a truck driver who has been a volunteer medic with Magen David Adom for over 20 years – volunteered to fill in for medics there.Asked by Arutz-7’s Benny Toker how he was able to rehabilitate himself and his family, Boaz said, “The way to rebuild is by getting married again… There cannot be a 100% recovery from something like what happened to us; we are always shadowed by the loss of a mother and three children. But with love and with faith, a decision like this brings much joy… Our house is now full of children and life.”

It's also a message to our enemies, he said: "They should know that they will not be able to defeat us. As the Torah says, the more they oppress us, the more we will prosper."

Asked how he will now be able to start dealing with three little babies, Boaz said, “It won’t be easy – but a lot of things have not been easy over the past few years. I tried to look at everything from the positive, optimistic side, and put the difficulties aside; I think that 50% of the problems are psychological. If a person says that it will be hard, then it will be hard. But if you decide to try to get up in the morning with a smile, and know you are headed in the right direction, then it will be much easier for you. You can’t let the obstacles stop you; put them aside.”

“I just want to emphasize," Boaz said in closing, "that everyone must know: Never give in to despair. There is always a light at the top, even if it might involve a hard climb. There is always a light at the end of the tunnel, at which can be found light, happiness, faith, and all of our goals.”

The Jewish American journalist murdered by Al Qaeda terrorists in Karachi, Pakistan, in 2002, would have celebrated his 46th birthday on Simchat Torah.

The idea to dedicate a hakafah to his memory came after Danny’s father, Judea Pearl, asked Rabbis Chaim Block and Efraim Mintz if Chabad can do something on Simchat Torah in tribute to his son.Rabbis Mintz and Block and a dozen Chabad Shluchim got together on this.“We thought about Daniel’s legacy—the Kiddush Hashem, or sanctification of G-d’s name that he inspired with his final words," says Rabbi Mintz, the Director of the Rohr Jewish Learning Institute.

“My father is a Jew, my mother is a Jew, I am a Jew.” With those last words, Daniel Pearl became a symbol of Jewish pride. “They proved the indomitable power of the Jewish soul,” says Rabbi Mintz.

Rebbi Abraham of Slonim (the Yesod HaAvodah) arrived at the synagogue in the morning on the first day of Sukkot and found a Jewish soldier there. The rebbe called him over and said, "I see light shining from you. What did you do?" The soldier was speechless; he didn't want to say. But when the rebbe pressed him he told the rebbe what had happened the previous night, which was the first night of Sukkot.

"I was a guard in my army camp and was feeling badly that I wouldn't he able to observe the mitzvah of being in a sukkah" he started. "But then I saw that beyond the wall around the camp was a Jewish home and in its courtyard was a sukkah. Now, if I left my post I could be shot but I decided that after all the officers left and I was alone, I would risk it. I would climb the wall and be in that sukkah.

As time passed I began to be upset because the officers were not leaving, but then fifteen minutes before midnight everyone

left and I was alone. I stuck a piece of bread in my pocket and quickly jumped over the wall. I went into the Sukka, made the blessings and ate my bread. I then quickly jumped back over the wall.

I was so happy", he told the rebbe, "that I had had the opportunity to fulfill the mitzva of eating in the Sukka."

"That's beautiful," said the rebbe, "but you wouldn't shine so much from that. Tell me more."

The soldier then admitted that he was so happy at what he had done that he had danced the night away.

Cuz wherever you are (physically, emotionally, spiritually, mentally, financially, hakol'ly), you can CHANGE and you can GROW. Every situation that you find yourself in is an opportunity to emerge better. Every rock thrown at you is a stepping stone in order to reach higher planes. Every kick, a chance to flex your muscles. Every stab, a space to plant.

Thursday, October 08, 2009

WOOOHOOO!!!The best and I mean the BEST and I mean I've-searched-very-little-previously-and-now-happened-to-find-this-while-looking-for-the-days-of-the-week-so-i-can-call-and-make-myself-an-appointment-and-now-it's-helping-me-with-other-stuff-namely-estar vs ser vs other verbs-and-its-serving-other-purposes-as-well-rather-superbly BEST!Yup, that's what I mean :)

Answers Tzvi Freeman (who takes his Daily Doses from the teachings of the Lubavitcher Rebbe):

He could have placed streetlamps along all the pathways of wisdom, but then there would be no journey.Who would discover the secret passages, the hidden treasures, if all of us homed in straight for our destination?

Ok, fine. I'll leave with treasures. And have to pay for over-weight. Thanks, G-d.

I'm so angry I can't even breathe properly. I HATE HATE HATE this!! I cannot freakin teach in a language that I don't know!!!! Babysit for ten minutes, sure. Chit chat for three minutes, sure. Even do some activity with kids for twenty minutes, I can handle. Tell a kid to not to touch. To go to the bathroom. To eat. To turn to the right page. But more than that I CANNOT DO! I do not deserve this! I have talents and abilities and capabilities and I don't know the difference but I have them and here I cannot use them. I am trapped, suffocated, stifled. I am giving so much less than I have. I'm dumb and foolish and useless. I stumble and stutter and gasp for help but there is nobody to answer my call. I feel like crying five times a day from this. I feel like slapping the aides. It's too much for me. Too too much :(

Tuesday, October 06, 2009

is what this place looks like.UPDATE:So I was thinking-there are a good few ways this post might be understood by a reader.Some will assume there is a sushi-themed event takin place and so I am gazin at piles of sushi and, consequently, wasabi as well.Some may figure that the name of my present physical location is (or sounds something similar to) Wasabi. Sorta like the Ad-delo-yoda comment I made to Australian Mushkie some days ago which made her jump and me raise my eyebrows which reminds me I still didn't read the story but don't worry Mushkie it's marked unread in my inbox and this calls for a dashed sentence which I just used so I shan't and also I don't need Yossi runnin to the patent office right now and wow I just mentioned two (stranger) bloggers in my post. Not bad.And yet others might guess I am surrounded by folk from a Japanese descent.All the while though, I'm solely referrin to the current background color of my blog. Zehu.

The Goldman family from Kiryat Arba was in a very tragic single car accident along Kvish 6 where they lost control of their car. The mother and the daughter were air lifted to Rambam hospital in Haifa, the mother because of a very serious head injury and the daughter for shock. The father received some minor injuries as did the other two children. The father and all three children (Children's age: 3,4 and 5) have since been released from the hospital but urgent prayer is needed for the mother as her situation is very critical.Her Hebrew name is: Yael bat EstherMay HaShem grant her a refuah shlemah. Amen!--(Also, please daven for a complete and speedy recovery for Chava bat Sarah)

So my Guide makes sure those times fall out on days with Hayom Yoms such as-

We are assured by covenant that any wide-ranging effort and labor pursued wisely and with friendship is never fruitless. (12 Tishrei)and The soul-aspect of yechida emerges through the avoda of being tested. (17 Tishrei)

***

So then I continue, stronger.Until the next time.And it swings the other way.Till I hit and rebound.And then I'm stronger.Until the next time....

***

Two souls there are: bad and good, and I-I look at both and with a sighChoose one that will make all the difference.

"She even looked like a principal. You know the type-conservative clothing and sturdy, sensible shoes. Her family had that stamp, as well. Twenty-eight years old, her son, and still tucking his polo shirt into his khakis."

Is how the guy in the Sukkah ended off the beginning of the Rabbi's "Tracht gut" declaration.It's moments like these that spark hope in my wild heart.

Now, these items from the Humor Lost and Found Box on the other hand...

"Do you know where my notebook is?""No, I didn't see it.""Cmon, I gotta find out! It's like my bible!""Your what?""It's like my bible. All my spanish is in there, I need it!""Oh. (pause) I still don't know where it is."

There was another I meant to write but can't remember now.Also, the above convo doesn't sound as bad as it was. Trust me.

What is a sabra?
A sabra is a form of cactus, Opuntia ficus-indica, that grows extensively in Israel.
The fruit of the sabra has a thick peel with a sharp spine and is covered in prickly thorns. Once the rough and deterring exterior is peeled away, however, you will reach the contrasting sweet pulp.
Authentic Israelis are often referred to as "sabras" because they tend to be outwardly tough and coarse, but once you get to know them they really are a soft, sweet and sensitive people.